


purity

by ndnickerson



Series: Rain on a Tin Roof [5]
Category: Nancy Drew - Keene
Genre: Doggy Style, Drunk Sex, Drunken Confessions, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Jealousy, Missionary Position, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-19
Updated: 2009-12-19
Packaged: 2017-10-04 15:17:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ndnickerson/pseuds/ndnickerson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The weekend after her divorce is finalized, Nancy tries to figure out what happens next.</p>
            </blockquote>





	purity

**Author's Note:**

> Falls after Rain on a Tin Roof, Cannonball, In the Bleak Mid-Winter, and most of What the Sun Didn't Burn. If you squint, there's a reference to Files 90.

Fifteen weeks.

One weekend she'd been in Bayport packing. Another, he'd been in Washington, on a business trip. Two she couldn't shake the feeling that she was being followed, and another they just couldn't manage to match their schedules. One Tuesday night they'd barely managed to make it to bed before Hannah called, saying that Sam had woken up sick and was screaming for her. The routine was taxing and all her countermeasures were so time consuming and when she finally did make it to him, their time was so short that they didn't do much talking, and then some nights all they did was talk and talk until the words came slower and slower and then she passed out in his arms. But during that time she was still legally Frank's wife and she was still technically having an affair and any time she spent with Ned meant another chance Frank would find out. And fight. God, he would fight, he would destroy them both if he knew that she had gone back to the first, the only man she'd ever loved. She'd never see Sam again, if Frank could help it.

So they stayed in. Some nights Ned went by restaurants and picked up elaborate meals for them, sometimes they ordered pizza, a few times Sam came along and stayed over and Nancy's sleep was so light that when Ned inhaled a little too deeply Nancy woke up immediately, groping for a robe, leaving his bed to check on her daughter. They didn't kiss in front of Sam, didn't hint at anything. And Sam didn't call Ned her uncle, or her mother's friend, she just called him by his name. Ned was like her Aunt Bess and Aunt George. He put the pictures she colored for him under magnets on his refrigerator and he kept a special sippy cup just for her and Sam let Ned carry her on his shoulders and give her airplane rides. But Sam just couldn't get to sleep without the yellow dog he'd given her clutched close, tucked under her chin.

Nancy told Ned once that Sam was having screaming nightmares, and when they slept together she never slept naked just in case Sam called for her. In fact, when Sam was there, safely tucked in her bed on the other side of the apartment, that still wasn't enough space. They kissed and touched and when she pulled back he felt like he was still in college and she was still insisting that they couldn't actually go so far as to do it. As though Sam would be able to sense it. He wanted to remind her that Sam had been in the next room asleep the second time they'd had sex, but during that fifteen weeks, that interim time, she wasn't that reckless anymore. She couldn't be that reckless anymore.

Even on those nights when she left him begging for it, she still whispered that she loved him before dropping off to sleep.

And Ned sighed, with his arms around her, ducked in close and pressed his lips against her neck and whispered the same into her skin, before he fell asleep curled close to her. 

"Love you too."

\--

She didn't get drunk. Sam could call. She might need to make a quick getaway. And, sometimes she almost admitted to herself, she was a little afraid of getting drunk around Ned. She hadn't been drunk in a very long time, not since before. After she knew she was pregnant, she couldn't drink in good conscience, and once Sam was born, she was a parent first. Being Sam's mother meant burying her identity as someone else, as Nancy, and that was almost a relief. Telling Frank he was going to be a father was the last time she'd still been herself.

Taking the elevator up to that hotel room the night of the reunion had been like waking up again.

She kissed Sam goodbye that Saturday night, the first Saturday night of her life that her parents were no longer married, and promised that the next time she went to see Ned she would take Sam with her. She dressed in baby blue and a pair of darkwash jeans and took a cab straight to his place, while the streetlights clicked on one by one, and when she knocked on his door her heart was high and quick in her chest and she couldn't stop herself from grinning.

"Hey," he greeted her, and he smelled of the aftershave she had given him a lifetime before when he pulled her into his arms, until her feet were dangling just off the ground.

They went to a club with a bar, because they could, because she wanted to do something and the idea of sitting in some white-tablecloth four-star didn't quite feel right, not so soon. Not for this. Ned found them a pool table and set up the tab, and Nancy ordered a strawberry daiquiri while Ned went to rent the rack.

Nancy, who couldn't keep her eyes off him, saw the redhead before Ned did. She took a long sip of her drink, the ice numbing the back of her throat, as she watched the girl get his attention, watched Ned make polite small talk and then move away without glancing back. The redhead pouted, crossing her legs in a vicious jerk, staring after him. Ned took another route that didn't involve passing her, back to their pool table.

"Do you want to leave?"

Ned glanced up at her as he racked the balls up. "What?"

Nancy shrugged toward the bar, keeping her tone light. "I don't know..."

"That girl?" Ned's brow furrowed, then cleared. "It's nothing."

"She looked upset."

"You were watching."

Ned didn't sound angry and Nancy leaned back against her chair. "Do you know how long it's been since we've been in public?" she said, smiling.

"You mean, like, on a date?" he replied, his mouth turning up.

"Is that what this is?"

"Well, considering I'm running a tab at the bar to make sure you get drunk, and I am definitely expecting you to put out... yeah. I think we are on a date."

Nancy looked down at her drink. "Is that how your dates usually work?"

He had been chalking up his cue, a faint smile on his face, but she blinked and the smile was gone and he had a guarded look she was slowly beginning to recognize.

"Only if you want them to. Do you want to break?"

"Go ahead," Nancy said, leaning over the table, her forearms resting on the edge, head tilted back. What she and Frank had done couldn't really be considered dating. Her first date, real date, in four years. _Don't fuck this up, don't, don't push it. Don't._

Fifteen weekends. They hadn't been together every weekend. She'd still been married and there had been nights when she hadn't been able to bring herself to sleep with him, because Sam had been too close, and there had been the blonde-streaked brunette and the light-eyed girl with the dark hair, barefoot in his apartment, and who knew how many more.

"Your turn."

He'd said she was the only girl he'd ever loved. But maybe that didn't matter when he was lonely in his cold apartment and she wasn't there. She wasn't even his girlfriend, for God's sake.

She lined up her shot and her hand wanted to shake, and Ned came over behind her, his body tight close to her, chest against her back, putting his hands over hers. Very close. If she closed her eyes her life with Frank had been a dream, and only this, the memory of this, had been real.

"I know what you're thinking."

"What am I thinking?"

She was staring at the cue and Ned's hips were tight behind hers and all she was thinking was that she needed to keep him happy. Because his plan for the evening sounded very, very appealing, the part that involved them sleeping together and waking up in the same bed. Mostly the sleeping together.

Ned's mouth was close to her ear. "I think you're jealous of that girl at the bar."

Their hands moved together and the balls cracked while Nancy tried to frame a response. "Maybe," she allowed.

Ned smirked. "I can still read your face."

Nancy stood back and lined up her next shot, still not looking at him, but she was almost smiling again. "She didn't seem too happy at the end of your conversation."

"Yeah, well," Ned sighed, reaching for his beer. "Maybe she thought I'd be more receptive to her suggestion for a three-way."

The stick swung up in a shallow arc, barely striking the cue, and Nancy turned to Ned, cutting her eyes. "She did not. And you did that on purpose."

Ned took a swig of his beer and shot her a cocky grin. "Maybe. I remember a time when you flew off the handle if another girl even looked at me, and I would've ended up chasing after you."

"Through the snow," Nancy finished, softly. "I wasn't good at dealing with it."

"So you've gotten better?"

Nancy lifted her gaze to his. "I guess I feel like I have no right, anymore."

Ned looked like he was going to say something, but at the last moment he just turned his head. "My turn?"

"Yeah," Nancy replied, her heart falling a little.

She ended up winning the game, but he seemed to be a million miles away, too quiet. He always noticed when her drink was low, though. They were halfway through a game of eight-ball when she finally started feeling it.

"The hour's almost up," Ned finally said, the angle of his hip against the corner of the table, his gaze lingering appreciatively on her as he took a last sip of his beer.

"Then I think we should go dance," she said, stepping away from the table, a vague challenge in her eyes.

"You up for it?"

She stared, almost aggressively, below his waist, until he shifted. "I think that's where you come in," she said, then grinned.

She glanced over the bar as she led him back through the club, looking for the redhead, but didn't find her, not there, not once they reached the small crammed dance floor. He swung her into his arms, easily, smiling down at her.

"It's been ages since I've done this," she confessed, bringing her mouth close to his ear, to make herself heard over the music. She wasn't going to think about the redhead. She'd been doing so well. Tonight was supposed to be great. She wasn't going to ruin it over this.

"We should do this," he said, easily. "Not every weekend. I don't want Sam to forget what I look like."

_Fuck._ Nancy could feel her eyes and the back of her throat stinging, and she leaned forward until he couldn't see her face, just resting her ear against his shoulder. "I don't think that's going to be a problem," she whispered.

They danced, joined at the hips, to songs she'd never heard before. Her life had turned into cartoon theme songs and read-along storybooks, thanks to Sam. She could see Ned mouthing the words to some of them, and when she mentally stepped back, she felt like she had been entirely out of touch with the rest of the world since she'd moved away. Even when she'd come back, her job and her divorce and taking care of Sam had swelled and filled up so much of her life that any moments she could steal for herself had turned into moments she spent with Ned, trying to find a way to Ned. She was stripped down to the bare essentials. And Ned had been moving, effortless, in the world she'd left behind, with girls like the one at the bar, surviving, moving on, and she had been frozen by the utter solitude of her life and the pills she took to keep herself from cracking in half. When she pulled back she found herself an anachronism, a shadow of who she had been, a leper released back into the wild.

Ned had pulled back and was studying her eyes, his own gaze gone dark and soft, painfully familiar. "What's wrong," he said, leaning forward, shifting his gaze away from her, his lips quirking up. "Have you managed to unzip my fly using only the power of your desperately sexy thoughts about me? Or do you have a top-secret mission to Russia next week to recover a kidnapped czarina and you're just trying to get a jump on it."

Despite herself Nancy felt a rush of warmth rise in her, for him. "I'm out of practice," she said. "With everything. I don't know how this is supposed to work anymore."

"It's very simple," he said, slowly. "I put my arms around your waist and you put yours up around my neck and we pretend there's no one else here and that the beat doesn't matter, and after a while I say something about how comfortable my bed is, or how much I want to make you breakfast in the morning, we hop into a cab, and," he leaned in close, "we have a lot of sex."

"How long is a while?"

He raised a hand, hailing an imaginary cab. "As long as you want it to be," he replied, as his palm held warm at the small of her back again. "As short as you want it to be."

"Another drink," she decided. "Long enough for another drink. I like being in public with you too much."

Ned grinned. "When you say it like that I imagine that I'm somehow secretly a rock star and I'm the only one who doesn't know it."

"You are," she replied.

He shook his head and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "If either of us is a rock star, I think you're the more likely candidate."

Her smile faded. "Maybe once," she said softly. "Not anymore. Not for a long time."

She made her last a martini while Ned took a double shot, and when they were halfway through their cab ride it hit her, like a thick liquid wall. She reached up and drew his head down to hers, and kissed his earlobe, the soft indentation just behind it, the curve of his neck.

"Nan?"

"Hmm?"

"I want to rip your clothes off."

They were speaking in half-whispers and she could feel his voice tingling all the way down her spine. "Like prom night?"

"Which?"

"Either?"

He chuckled. "I think, maybe... a hundred times more than that."

She traced the backs of her fingers down the line of his jaw. "Impossible," she declared, her gaze centered on his mouth. "You would have spontaneously combusted by now."

"Oh, I'm close," he said. His teeth grazed her earlobe and she shivered.

In the elevator they stood, touching, alone, and as she searched his gaze she realized that he hadn't taken his eyes off her all night. Not really. As far as he was concerned... maybe there really wasn't anyone else.

But Ned wasn't the long-suffering boyfriend anymore. He put his palms flat on either side of her, pinning her between him and the wall of the elevator, and she thought that maybe that wasn't such a bad thing.

"How long can you stay?"

"Oh, I'm sure Sam will be screaming for me to come home after she gets back from church, but if she hasn't called by now..." Nancy glanced at her watch. "How much do you think we can do in twelve hours?"

"Plenty," Ned replied, leaning in close to her, kissing her softly.

She wasn't disappointed, more bemused, when Ned keyed open his door and headed for the kitchen instead of pinning her against the first available unyielding surface and stripping her immediately. He came back with two glasses of ice tucked between his arm and chest, a bottle of scotch in his other hand. She already had her shoes off, her socks, her coat, and was considering losing her jeans too.

"I'm not drunk enough for you?"

Ned put the bottle and glasses down, one by one, then answered, "I'm not drunk enough for me. I don't like being halfway there."

She took a sip of the drink he offered, then vanished into his bedroom and returned a few minutes later in an abbreviated satin nightie. By then Ned was on his second drink and the lights were off, and his hands were already on her thighs as soon as she sat down.

"Do you really," she began, standing on her knees, leaning down to fill his field of vision, searching his eyes before she kissed him, "need to get drunk? Right now?"

Ned hooked an arm behind her knee and swung it on the other side of his hips, sliding his arms around her back and pulling her in close to him. He kissed her and his fingers were damp and cool from the condensation on his glass, and they left a trail of gooseflesh as he tugged the gown up and over her head, leaving her naked, her hair tumbled down her back, her chin still high.

"I think I'd like to get laid instead."

Nancy started to work on unbuttoning his jeans, her fingers going still when he ducked in and caught the point of her nipple in his mouth. She unzipped them and shoved them open, then slid off the couch and knelt at his knees, tugging at his pants. He pulled his shirt off and they left the rest of their clothes behind, as he pulled her into his arms and carried her, her legs wrapped around his waist, to his bedroom.

"You taste like scotch."

Ned chuckled, his breath against her cheek as he dipped his mouth to her ear. "I can find somewhere else to put my tongue," he growled, his palm stroking down over her abs, to the point of her hip, to angle it up to his.

She ran her hands through his hair, stretching one leg and then draping it loosely across the small of his back, her body already arching up to meet his. "Like where," she breathed, breaking into a grin at the end.

"Like..." His hand drifted down, and even though she could already feel his erection, pressing hard and thick against her thigh, he slipped his fingers between, curving up to brush her clit. "Here."

She pulled back, her eyes fluttering closed, mouth falling open. His fingers moved and her legs fell apart, his mouth drifting over her warm breathing flesh, and she made a soft moan when he flicked her nipple under his tongue. Her hips surged under his, the flush of her arousal spreading, leaving her wet under his touch, and as he trailed slow kisses over her belly, she reached down and cupped his face in her hands. She was gasping when he looked up, his eyes meeting hers in the blue dark.

"Later," she breathed, groaning as he stroked her again, and she would lose her mind if he didn't stop. "God, fuck me, now."

"Roll over," he said, and when she did he slipped his palms under her belly and lifted her by the middle, until she was on all fours, her knees spread apart, her back sloping down as she knelt on her elbows. She could feel him moving behind her and then he was inside her, kneeling over her, his breath at the back of her neck, his abs brushing the small of her back. He reached up and cupped her breast, as he pushed in by slow inches, gentle. She made a noise in the back of her throat and tossed her hair back and Ned laughed before pulling back, and she tensed in preparation for his thrust. When he began, groaning with each press of his hips up against hers, she dropped her chin, her mouth falling open again, her fingers curving to dig her nails into the sheet. Her scalp brushed the headboard when she began to move in counterpoint to his thrusts, taking him deeper, deeper, until they were slamming together, harder, her breath coming in harsh rapid gasps. His hands groped over her, glancing over her skin, fingers sliding up inside her again, his nail flicking her clit. She made a sound of pure incoherent pleasure and desperation, and he stroked harder and harder, his thrusts hard and short, until she was almost sobbing, his cock so hard and deep within her that whenever she breathed or shifted she could feel her orgasm build. It wasn't conscious anymore, the rhythm of her hips was rough and insistent, and any interruption or change made her gasp in shocked pleasure.

She groped for his hand on the sheet and led it up to her breast, and all his weight was on her, his other fingers still moving frantic and hard between her thighs. She could feel his breath on her skin, and she shivered before she buried her face in his pillow and screamed, and all he did was move faster, harder, until she began to come with one shuddering clench of her flushed cream-smooth flesh against his cock. He shuddered and his fingers dug into her breast, his cock instinctually pressing even deeper inside her, and she gasped in a breath to cry out just as he began to come.

"Ned," she groaned, sliding down until she was flat on her stomach, her thighs still open, and the mattress dipped as Ned fell on his back beside her. She rubbed her face against the pillow and Ned sighed, deeply, while she waited for her heart to slow.

"Hmm?" He rubbed his palms over his face. "Oh, God..."

She folded her arms under her head, sliding her knees together, slowly, her forehead creasing before she stilled. "That wasn't the first time you've done that," she said, trying to keep her voice light.

"Um, no," he said, folding his arms under his head, staring up at the ceiling. Then he turned to her. "You?"

"Have you ever had sex in an elevator?"

"Actual sex...? No."

"In a stairwell?"

"Why, do you want to?" He propped his head on his elbow, his chest bare and gleaming, his expression still faintly amused but turning solid by the second.

"I don't know... what you've done without me," she said, drawing her fingers in slow meaningless shapes over his chest. "I don't know... if you..."

"Just say it," he whispered, gazing at her mouth.

"Do you ever think of them when we're having sex?"

Ned rolled onto his back and flipped on the bedside lamp, then turned back to her. She watched as he slid close to her, pushing her knees apart easily, then slid on top of her, his hand loosely cupping her breast. "When I touch you like this does it make you think of him?"

Nancy shook her head mutely. His face was so close to hers that it blurred, and the light in his eyes was dangerous.

"When I... do this..." He ducked his head to her neck, trailing slow, wet kisses down her skin, the ball of his thumb stroking her nipple.

"No," she breathed, wrapping her legs loosely around his waist.

He suckled, slowly, pressing his hips in close to hers. When her fingers moved over the sheet he trapped her wrists in his fingers and pinned them over her head. She shifted and he pushed back up, until his eyes were level with hers.

"Did you ever think of me when you were sleeping with him?"

"Only..." Her voice was shaking. "Only when I wished that I was with you instead."

"The first time I had sex," he said, softly, "really had sex, when it was over I dreamed that you came to me and told me that it was all a lie, that you'd been undercover with Frank and it wasn't true and I was so fucking relieved. Every time I had sex I thought about you. Didn't matter how drunk I was, didn't matter how hot the girl was, I couldn't, stop, remembering you. I don't think you're ever going to understand how it was and how thoroughly you managed to hurt me. So, don't," his grip tightened on her fingers, not hard enough to hurt, but she could definitely feel it now, "make light of this."

"I—"

He lowered his head until his mouth was pressed against hers. "Don't. I'm not looking back. When I have sex with you, I'm having sex with you. If we need to talk about my sexual history, then fine, we'll talk about it. But it's history. It's done."

Nancy began to squirm under him. "Can I talk now?"

She managed to break his grip, although she was sure that she only did so because he let her. She sat up, conscious that she was naked, and dragged her hair away from her face, her eyes snapping.

"I always thought I was going to be your first."

"I always thought I was going to be yours," Ned returned, sitting up. Then he looked down, and she could see the muscle jumping in his jaw. "I wanted to be yours."

Nancy swallowed, her eyes filling. "Then why are we doing this?"

Ned half-shrugged. "I guess... I guess in a way it doesn't matter that I wasn't your first. What matters is what happens now."

"And I know I can't say this, but... I want to know where I stand with you. If I'm going to come over here one weekend and find another girl here. Because, I know that maybe I brought you into Sam's life too soon—"

Ned's eyes flashed. "Do you ever ask yourself why you're so afraid that I'm going to be unfaithful to you? I don't even know where the fuck I stand with you."

Nancy's mouth fell open. "I've been spending every second I can with you."

"And you're only just now divorced. We haven't been going on dates, and we don't even have sex every time you come over here." His mouth went tight, his voice tense. "And I know now that being married isn't even enough to keep you faithful."

Immediately she was standing on her knees, her palm swinging around to slap him, but he managed to catch her wrist and stop her. "How the fuck dare you say that," she hissed, her cheeks flushed, her eyes slitted. "You son of a bitch."

"So you're saying I'm the only man you ever looked at when you were married. That you'd never do that again."

"Of course," she said impatiently, yanking her wrist back.

"Don't pull that shit with me. I was your boyfriend for four years, and I don't even know how many guys—"

"You were my _boyfriend_," she repeated. "And I took you for granted, and I treated you like crap, but I loved you. I've loved you since we've met, and no matter what, no matter what else was going on in my life, that hasn't ever changed."

He touched her cheek. "Maybe it never changed, but it wasn't enough."

She searched his eyes. "Are you saying it isn't enough now? That even if I tell you that I want you— that I want you in our lives and I want to start building some kind of life with you, that you don't feel that way?"

"I'm saying that it's hard for me to believe that you've changed."

"Three years ago I never would've thought that you'd be fucking a different girl every night. Besides, weren't you just saying that it's all history?"

"It is," he admitted. "I'm not going back to that."

"Then what are you going to do?"

"Settle down," he replied. "Finally have someone to come home to." He looked down at his hands, then back at her. "I want to settle down with you."

"But," she said, and she could feel her mouth trembling.

"But you've been divorced for less than half a week and you aren't even settled into your life yet. I'm not saying I want to marry you in a week or a month, I think that would be a mistake. But I want to see... I want to believe that you're finally ready to take that step with me."

"And how are you going to believe I'm ready?"

"When we've been together for a while and neither of us have any second thoughts about this. I think we both need the freedom to admit it, if this isn't working out, if too much has changed. If you meet a guy and realize that what you feel for me... isn't enough, or isn't just for me."

"Or if you run into some redhead at a bar and want to see what she's like in bed."

Ned grabbed her by the shoulders and slammed her to the bed, on her back, his legs bent double and pinning hers down. "You're the only redhead I want in my bed, goddammit," he said, his face close to hers. "Nancy... God, I'm just afraid you're going to do it again, you're going to undo me again."

"Then admit it," she cried out. "Tell me that this is important to you, that we aren't just fucking, that it means something."

Ned took a few long, deep breaths. "I've been dreading this," he whispered. "I feel like you're with me because I'm familiar and I'm available and you know that you could walk all over me if you wanted. Well, Nan..."

"I can't walk all over you," she said, and she was motionless under him, her every nerve tingling from his closeness. "I need you too much. I need this too much. I need to be your girlfriend, Ned. I need to know that I left Frank for a reason, and that Sam..." she bit her lip. "That Sam won't have another father leave her."

"I can promise you right now that for as long as you're faithful to me, I will be faithful to you," he said softly. "But you can't have expected me to just save myself for you all those years, when you were married to someone else. You can't." He leaned in close to her, his mouth against her ear. "Not when I only spent all that time trying to find a way to forget you."

She smiled, and reached up to run her fingers down his cheek. "I'm jealous," she admitted. "You were right earlier. You can have any girl you want. And... I don't deserve for you to want me."

"But I do," he replied. He shifted his legs off hers and she sighed in relief, then felt him nudge her thighs open. "I want you. I need you. And... one day, I'm going to ask you to marry me, and this time, it won't be a joke, it won't be a trick. I don't want this to turn into your relationship with... him, I don't want you to regret being with me. I want us to think this through and I want us to get married because we want to be, because it's the right choice for us. Because this is the rest of our lives and if I marry you, I want it to be for life."

She nodded. "I don't ever want to leave you," she whispered, searching his eyes. "Not again. I think Frank and I were too young to be married in the first place, maybe if I'd married you at nineteen it wouldn't have worked out either... but this... I don't need to be with anyone else to know that you're the only one who's ever been right for me."

"And you," Ned replied, as she felt the tip of his erection slide against her inner thigh. "I know how it feels to be with anyone else. I know I want you."

She stretched up to kiss him, softly, then trailed her fingertips down his arm as she gently shoved him onto his side, facing her, and pressed her mouth in a line of slow wet kisses down his chest. When her fingers found his cock he rolled over onto his back, closing his eyes. She gently stroked her fingers up the underside of his shaft, then knelt over him, kissing the flesh near the base of his cock, her fingertips gently caressing the slack flesh over his balls.

"Are you going to suck me off or am I going to have to fuck you," he groaned, his fingers moving over the sheet.

She scraped her teeth over his skin, slowly, pressing deep. "You're going to have to fuck me," she breathed, her mouth wet against his flesh, muffled there.

"God," he mumbled, his hand tracing up her shoulder before he buried his fingers in her hair. He started to urge her down and she dipped her head between his legs, tracing her tongue slowly up the underside of his cock. He arched under her, his fingers pressing hard into her scalp, and he gasped when she pressed the tip of her tongue hard against the head of his penis.

"You've never given a blow job," he said softly.

Her cheeks colored as she pulled back. "Sorry," she said. "No."

"I want to teach you," he said, then flipped her over, onto her back. "God, I love the way your tongue feels on my cock."

She chuckled, then closed her eyes as he pressed her thighs open, his thumbs slipping between to part her flesh, to open her to him. She could just feel the thick heat of him touching the wet tremble between her legs, and then suddenly his breath was against her mouth.

"Open your eyes," he whispered. "I want to see your eyes, I want to see you when I fuck you."

She opened her eyes obediently, and in the golden halo of light from his lamp she felt him press inside her, slowly, an inch deeper with every breath until their hips were flush, his expression intense. Her mouth opened, her breath turned ragged, and she slipped her arms around his neck, tilting her knees back, shifting the angle of his cock against her center. He pulled out of her slowly, and she arched, moaning.

"You thought I could think about anyone else?"

"Did you fuck those other girls from behind so you wouldn't see their faces?"

"You think that's why I did that?" He found her clit and she groaned, her hips opening to him. "Is that what brought all this on?"

"What was I supposed to think?" She writhed underneath him, her heels pressing into the small of his back.

"So you didn't like it?" His mouth curved up as he flicked her clit, and she bucked against him, reaching for his cock.

"It was great," she managed. "Every single time you fuck me is great. Every, single, time. I just wanted to know you were fucking me and not that redhead at the bar."

His mouth rounded as she gently nudged him in toward her. "Do you ever forget who you're with?"

"Fuck no," she groaned, tightening her legs around him as he slid inside her again. "I don't ever have to ask if you're in."

"You are so, so bad," he chuckled, leaning down as he pressed the length of his cock inside her. His breath was warm against her mouth. "I don't ever forget it's you, so just calm down, baby. My eyes are open."

She nodded, sucking in a swift breath, her nails gently sliding over the sensitive flesh behind his earlobe. He tilted his face and kissed her, slow, his hips gently nudging against hers, until he pulled back and gazed down at her, his eyes hot and dark, her lips wet and swelled from the press of his.

"And I love you."

"I love you too," she sighed, running her hand through his hair, and when they shifted she could feel it, a shock over her skin, the answering desire on his face. "I'll never stop loving you."

His thrusts were long, rough, deep, and when he pinned her to the bed under his weight, breathing in her every gasped breath, she started shaking, her eyes going damp. His own were hooded, intense, searching her gaze as he cupped her breast, his thumb finding her nipple again.

Then his cock brushed the tip of her clit and she shuddered, tilting her head back, leaving her neck bare. He shifted the angle of his hips and she gasped in a breath for a scream, his cock stroking the tip of her clit with every thrust, harder and harder, and she arched up to meet him, shaking as she moved in rapid counterpoint. She was crying out, her nipples hard sensitive points under his caress, her skin gleaming, and the first tear streaked down her cheek as she searched his gaze again. She was exposed, lain bare, the tight wet perfection that was him sheathed inside her was all she knew, and then he was pumping his cock hard and quick between her legs and she was screaming when she came.

He closed his eyes and she buried her face against his shoulder, gasping, her teeth digging into his skin as he rocked inside her quickly a few more times, the points of his hips flush against her inner thighs. "Nan," he groaned, matching his rhythm to the pulsed clench her orgasm, and her nails dragged over his shoulder blades, her oversensitive nerves screaming with every shift of his cock against the wet heat between her thighs. By the time he came she was raw and spent, trembling, her eyes streaming, powerless to move. He collapsed to her, and they were still joined, and she arched and he stroked the line of her cheek, pulling back to see her eyes.

"I love that I don't have to ask if you came."

"See, those other girls... sucked," Nancy laughed, drawing in a swift breath as he pulled out of her. He tugged the covers up over them and she half-sprawled over his chest, her cheek against his shoulder, her knee bent and resting over his upper thighs. He slipped his arm around her, their skin still damp.

"So I'm your girlfriend now."

Ned chuckled, brushing her hair from her forehead. "Yeah. You're my girlfriend. Except this time I think we can do without the cockteasing and your constant cheating."

"_I_ was a cocktease?"

"Yes. You, Nancy Drew, were a cocktease." He brushed his thumb over her mock-innocent rounded lips. "I guess I should just be glad I wasn't the only one you blocked."

She kissed his thumb. "And no cheating," she agreed softly. "God. I would never find anyone else this perfect for me. There is no one else."

"We do fit, really well," he agreed, his hand drifting down to her hip. He kissed her forehead. "Like you were made for me."

She closed her eyes. "I think I was," she sighed. "I think we were."

And they went quiet, slow, as she nestled into him, as he stroked her shoulder. She was almost asleep when he sighed and pushed himself up, startling her, to turn the lamp off, to put them in darkness again. She settled on top of him, purring softly when he slid his arms back around her.

"I like this sleeping naked thing," he said slowly, his voice gone thick with exhaustion. "You think maybe you could do this more often?"

She rubbed her face against his shoulder. "Not while Sam's here," she replied, faintly. "Sometimes she gets scared and wants to sleep with me."

Ned stroked her hair back. "Does that happen a lot?"

Nancy made a soft noncommittal noise. "Every now and then," she murmured. "She's been so good. So brave." She raised her head and blinked at Ned, slowly. "I love her so much," she admitted, her voice shaking. "And I love you so much, and you two are the most important things in my life."

He nodded, his hand sliding over the back of her head. "You two are the most important people in mine."

She searched his eyes, in the dark, and then she smiled, leaning forward to kiss him. "Good," she whispered.

He drew her back down to his shoulder, and he was almost asleep when she mumbled sleepily, "Have you ever had sex outside?"

Ned's eyes fluttered open, and he blinked a few times before he started laughing. "Not with Nancy Drew," he replied.

"In a car?"

"Not with you."

She pushed herself up, her palm against his chest, and he made a shocked pained cry, his mouth falling open, as she glared at him. "That's not what I asked," she said, but she couldn't summon the energy to sound angry.

"But it's what's important," he replied, running his hands up her arms, to cup her face. "Make me a list, I'll fuck you however you want, wherever you want."

She swung her knee to the other side of his hips and knelt over him, leaning down to kiss him. "Will you promise to keep your eyes open?" she whispered against his mouth.

"Every time," he said softly.


End file.
